The Art of Obsession
by Error in G
Summary: My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley... and I have a slight obsession with Draco Malfoy. Best oneshot in rowan-greenleaf's Ginny Draws Draco challenge, and the companion pieces that go along with it.
1. The Art of Obsession

**Fan Fiction  
**The Art of Obsession_  
Harry Potter_  
by Error-in G

**DISCLAIMER: **_I acknowledge that none of the Harry Potter rights belong to me, nor did I create the Harry Potter series or any character originally in it. I take credit only for any original characters and/or the plot variations._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: _This is a response to rowan-greenleaf's challenge, Ginny Draws Draco._

**Oneshot: The Art of Obsession**

_My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley, and I am now a fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am just a typical witch; I listen to The Weird Sisters, have several older brothers, love to draw, live in a magical house, can perform a wicked Bat Bogie hex and have a slight obsession with Draco Malfoy._

_Yeah, you heard me right._

_He's tall and lean, powerful and naturally beautiful. He has platinum blond hair that barely reaches his shoulders, and he usually keeps it pulled back in a ponytail: the most unfeminine ponytail that I've ever seen, I might add. He has cold grey eyes that seem to look down on everything, but I think that observation is incorrect (I'll explain later). He has a pointed face with fine, almost femininely delicate features._

_Draco wears white button up shirts and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows to show off his forearms. His silver and green tie brings out the color of his eyes quite nicely, and his pants are always excellently tailored and perfectly fitted. _

_Now, as for his eyes: His grey eyes aren't cold, they're distant. I don't think Draco Malfoy looks down on everyone; I think he just observes them objectively. You see, if he looked down on everyone, he would be horribly unhappy. Wouldn't you? Besides that, his eyes only look cold because they're grey. When was the last time you saw someone with grey eyes that looked warm? That's right, never. And you never will._

_But you don't have to take my word for it. Besides, you're a Gryffindor, you think it's wrong that I should like the son of Lucious Malfoy, I know it. That's your problem._

_Don't worry, I will never be with Draco Malfoy. Ever. I'm a Weasley, a Weasle-bee, as he calls us. But it isn't offensive, he's just living up to the reputation he has. He has to, doesn't he? It doesn't bother me. Not really._

_So, about that obsession I have with Draco? I never talk to him, I don't think I've said a nice word to him in my life, even. He's pretty much in the elite of Hogwarts, and I'm, well, not. But I do get my Malfoy fix, certainly. When I'm lonely he's all that keeps me company, he understands me, he'll look into my eyes and let me know that he understands me._

_Okay, maybe not._

_But I do feel like I have a part of him with me at all times. You see, I have this muggle sketch book that my dad bought for me last year. It's almost full now, which is a little sad, but that's okay… especially because of what it's full of. You see, nearly half of the drawings are of the subject of my obsession. You guessed it: Draco Malfoy._

_I have sketches of him playing Quidditch, dueling, studying, sleeping, and even snogging with his girlfriend Pansy Parkinson. No, I'm not crazy. Have you ever seen those girls that all they draw are horses? Horses, horses, horses… and they never look that much different. Well, it's a waste of time. Drawing Draco is like drawing the wind. I can capture nature, beauty, everything un-capture-able on paper just by drawing Draco._

_That's right. Draco Malfoy. He's beautiful, honestly. You wouldn't believe it. I don't like to brag, but I think my pictures do him a fair amount of justice. Of course, no one could ever do Draco Malfoy justice, but still…_

Ginny raised her head from the sketch that she was working on and looked at the subject that she was drawing. He was reclining on the lawn with fellow-Slytherins, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle, about fifty yards away. The air was still and the sun shone down so that, even at this distance, Ginny could see that his face was gleaming with sweat and his hair stringy and damp.

He was talking effortlessly with Zabini, the dark boy that contrasted Draco so beautifully. If Ginny had been working in water colors she would have been sure to add him to the drawing for effect, but as she was using only a pencil it would have been futile to do so.

The picture lying in Ginny's lap was a very close likeness to the boy it depicted. Its legs were stretched out and it was leaned back on its arms. Rather than limp, stringy hair there was a slight breeze in the picture, causing little wisps of hair to blow into his face. His feet, crossed at the ankle, were in perfect proportion to the rest of himself, not awkwardly too big or small like many artists' depictions might be.

Ginny smiled down at the picture as she sketched the lines of his loosened tie around his neck, adding the diagonal stripes with careful precision. His shirt wasn't quite buttoned all the way, revealing a portion of his neck and chest that wouldn't have been visible otherwise. Ginny had the urge to march right over there to Mr. Draco Malfoy and straddle his legs, loosening his tie until she could throw it over his head and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his surely-perfect torso. Come to think of it, she hadn't ever seen him without his shirt on… except, of course, in dreams and her own life-like drawings.

But Ginny remained where she was. She carefully started to add shadows to the picture. A dark bit here below his arms, a dark bit there where his hair cast his face into shadow. She added the grass he was reclining on, soft and plush like grass so often is in the very end of summer. Right now Draco was talking, a look of obvious annoyance and superiority on his face, but in Ginny's picture the boy was wearing a small and mysterious smile, his intense eyes looking up at the viewer. And the viewer was, and only would be, Ginevra Weasley. This Draco was her Draco. The Draco on paper: the Draco that she created and commanded… and the Draco that loved her.

Ginny closed her eyes and imagined… imagined Draco looking her direction, and standing up. He would forsake Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle, his idiot "friends", and he would walk right towards her, where she sat on the grass in the shade of a tree. His intense eyes would stare into her, looking right through her as he walked closer, slowly. It would be agony to have to wait for him.

But Ginny knew full well that Draco would never, ever come to her. She looked once more at her finished drawing and, without closing the sketch book, shoved it into her bag. She gave Draco one last fleeting glance and stood up to head back up to the castle again. Ginevra Weasley had spent enough time for the day hoping to earn a glance from Draco Malfoy, and now was time to go up to the library and work on that Potions essay for Snape.

The library, on this Saturday afternoon, was full of people. There was only one empty table, so Ginny spread out her potions book and reference books that she'd hunted down in the jungle of books and sat down. The table was next to a window and the sunlight from outside shone in, warming Ginny's back and shining across her books and roll of parchment.

The atmosphere in the library was anything but a studious one, it was a little on the loud side and was interfering with Ginny's concentration. She would begin to write her essay and then hear an interesting snippet of conversation from someone nearby and be forced to stop. Finally she dropped her quill and surrendered to the distraction of the people around her, pulling her sketch book out of her bag and flipping back a few pages.

There was a picture of Draco, of course, straddling a broom. His long, lean body was stretched out flat along it, his right arm reaching far in front of his, and his thin fingers outstretched. His legs and left hand clutched the broom, raw concentration and determination on his handsome face. His long hair was whipping the air behind him, and his Quidditch robes were billowed out most becomingly. Ginny ran her fingers along his two dimensional body, feeling a tingle deep in her own…

She turned the page, revealing a picture of the same piece of flesh that had been on the last page. This time it was just a portrait. His fine, delicate features had been sketched carefully, his face as pointed on paper as it was in person. His hair was pulled back in a very loose ponytail and his mouth was curved down into a frown that was attractive nonetheless.

Ginny flipped to her latest drawing of her favorite human being, admiring the exceptionally fine likeness of Draco. She let the book lay open on the table, staring down into his eyes. She wished she could capture the spirit in them; his eyes were the only thing she felt she couldn't even begin to accurately draw. Minutes passed with only this picture of Draco existing to Ginny, and she felt butterflies slowly fluttering inside of her as she admired even this picture of him.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't little Weasle-bee."

A sharp voice interrupted Ginny's thoughts, a voice that she identified immediately. Ginny's head snapped up and she slammed the sketch book shut, her eyes meeting the gray eyes that were eying her critically. She couldn't bring herself to say anything; with just the table separating the two of them. They were so close. Too close. Ginny's breathing increased slightly, her butterflies fluttering faster and more intensely… more like moths now, really, erratic and unpredictable.

"What's that there?" Draco reached forward to grab Ginny's sketch book, but she had the presence of mind to snatch it up and hold it flat against her breasts. Draco's facial features contorted into a haughty grin as his hand withdrew. "Why won't you show me?" He asked.

"It's… it's mine." Ginny said, uncertainly keeping eye contact. Her books were still spread across the table and he leaned forward onto it, leaning in closer to her. Her stomach seemed to freefall with every centimeter nearer he got.

"Does little Weasley have a secret?" He whispered, a smile playing at his sensual red lips. Ginny had to press her nails into her sketch book to refrain from reaching up and touching those lips with her fingers, just to feel how soft she knew they would surely be. She nodded her head slowly, unsure entirely of what she was doing until he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet roughly. Ginny hadn't the presence of mind to do anything but hang onto her sketchbook and follow Draco as he stalked from the library.

Right as the two passed through the library doors, Ginny's feet faltered and she looked back. "My books…" She said lamely, still clutching the most important of the books to her chest with her free hand. But Draco paid no attention and hurried through the corridors with Ginny in tow, thankfully through near-empty corridors. Ginny's mind was reeling. Where was he going? Why were his fingers so comfortably warm and _why_ was it that his fingers enclosed on her wrist made her feel so like his? The thoughts crossed her mind over and over again as chills ran through her body and she followed the white blond boy blindly.

Draco stopped abruptly, causing Ginny to run into his back. "Brat…" He muttered, throwing open a door and pushing her inside, following closely behind.

Ginny saw that she was in an old lavatory, the walls stained with rust stains from the water, and the sinks with lime. Some of the stall doors were hanging slightly crooked on their hinges and she knew this must be the bathroom in which the entrance to The Chamber of Secrets was. She stumbled to a near sink and leaned against it, watching Draco whisper something with his wand pointed at the door and then turn to her.

"Are you going to show me what's in that book of yours?" Draco asked lazily, walking slowly and steadily toward Ginny. His hair was stall damp with sweat, and there were spots below his arms where sweat had leaked through his shirt. He was beautiful in a more rugged way today than usual.

Ginny stared at Draco, crossing her hands in front of her sketchbook. There was no way she could possibly let anyone ever see the contents, let alone Draco pretty-boy Malfoy himself! She didn't know what he'd think, he'd probably laugh at her or, worse, get mad and destroy the sketches. Ginny subconsciously took a step away from Draco, who had stopped moving closer and now stood merely a few steps away.

"Won't you give it here?" Draco asked, his tone dangerous. Ginny shook her head hard, her eyes still latched on his face. "_Accio book!_" The sketchbook flew out of Ginny's hands and Draco caught it in his own, shoving his wand back in the pocket of his pants. A look of triumph crossed his face as he turned to the sink and set the book down, opening it to a page randomly in the middle. "Now, which page was I not supposed to see?..." Draco mused.

Ginny watched in horror as Draco flipped from the simple landscape he had opened to, to a picture of himself standing at a table in the dungeons, stirring a steaming cauldron. Her stomach seemed to clench up as if it was about to thoroughly reject everything she'd eaten today. Draco's back was to her so she could just barely see his face in the mirror as he looked down at the drawing that was so clearly himself. He studied it, a blank look on his face, and then turned the page to find another. This one was of him asleep, something Ginny had not seen but imagined. She bit her lip as he turned the page again.

Draco's face remained a mask as Ginny's teeth tore into her bottom lip. A line of blood trickled down her lip and onto her chin from the force that she steadily bit down with. Draco flipped through the pages, revealing sketch after sketch of himself: his gorgeous, wonderful, perfect self… the part of him that loved Ginny, because Ginny was his creator, and he must love her. Silence filled the bathroom, except for the slow drip of water that came from a leaky facet a few sinks down from where Draco stood. Ginny realized that Draco had not flipped a page for a while and was carefully studying one particular sketch. She silently stepped forward a few steps until she stood right behind him and could peer around his shoulder to see the sketch that had been completed not long before.

"You drew this today." Draco's dangerously quiet but altogether different than usual voice filled the room and, though it wasn't a question, Ginny felt compelled to answer him.

"Yes… when you were sitting on the grass out by—"

Draco interrupted, slamming the sketch book suddenly shut and causing Ginny to jump. "I know when you drew it, I saw you." He said quietly, leaving the sketch book lying on the sink and turning around to face Ginny. His face was only inches from her own. "How long, Weasley?" He whispered, his voice dangerously low.

Ginny longed to take a step back, to turn around, to run away. But she couldn't do anything but stare up into his distant grey eyes and gape up at him. She was silent for a few long moments, and finally looked down at the floor and answered: "Since the beginning of last year." She could feel his eyes on her as she stared down at the floor and it felt as if he could somehow see right through her.

Draco said nothing, but he continued to stare; Ginny knew because she could feel the force of his eyes on her. The _drip, drip, drip_ of the sink was all the noise that there was in the deserted bathroom, and it pounded on Ginny's eardrums painfully. She saw Draco move his arms up and before she could do anything felt his hands, one on either side, press on her face and tip it up towards his own face. Ginny's heart beat sped up rapidly and the moths in her stomach took flight again. There was a tingle down her spine as he stared into her eyes, and then, suddenly, his eyes were much too close to focus on at all.

As Draco's lips closed over Ginny's she felt the immediate urge to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. She kept her mouth closed, struggling steadily against his hands, but to no avail. A warm, wet muscle pushed through her lips and into her mouth, exploring without hesitation. Ginny felt strangely violated: she hadn't invited this tongue into her mouth. She hadn't ever been kissed, though she knew the theory behind it. _Curse the theory!_ Her mind thought angrily, as it wasn't helping her decide what to do anyhow.

Draco's mouth was opening and closing quickly, pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth and holding her head tightly close to his own. Ginny felt a tingle, but not in her spine… this one was in an entirely different place, an almost unfamiliar place to her. She felt the unmistakable need to wrap her arms around him, and so her hands snaked up between his arms to latch around his neck. She stretched up on tiptoe and uncertainly responded to his tongue in her mouth. She met his tongue in the middle and pressed against it, tasting it, tasting him: perfection. She could feel his hands run from her face to her waist, wrapping around her and pulling her body flat up against his own.

Ginny stumbled as Draco pulled her closer, falling momentarily off of her toes and breaking the lock of their lips. She stretched up to meet his mouth once more, startled to feel his manhood pressed against her leg, and feeling again the urge to leave, but she didn't. The tingling increased, and she felt hot between her legs, something she couldn't entirely understand. Draco's hands slid lower, firmly grasping the flesh that he found there, causing Ginny's body to grow stiff. He continued to kiss her, the movement of his tongue and of his lips increasing in time with Ginny's own.

"Ohhh, how _wonderful!_" A dreamy, sappy and high-pitched girl's voice sounded behind them. Ginny jumped away from Draco and looked behind her to see a transparent figure sitting on the top of one of the stall doors. She smiled down at them in a sad, sentimental way, and Ginny knew this had to be Moaning Myrtle. She heard the tear of paper behind her, and quickly turned to see Draco holding the notebook, having ripped out the newest drawing.

"We'll have to do this again sometime, Weasley." He said, his voice low as he held out the sketchbook to Ginny, shoving the picture he held unceremoniously into his pocket.

Ginny's hunger for him had not been quenched, nor had it been even slightly satisfied. Rather, her hunger was a needier, hungrier feeling. She watched as he flashed her one last smile, his grey eyes radiating a kind of warmth that one might think held a sliver of affection, and then turned to go.

_Of course, no one could ever do Draco Malfoy justice, but still…I think he approves of my renditions of him. I must say, though… ever since the other day in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I've been able to capture so much more of Draco's eyes in my sketches: his grey eyes that really _do_ radiate something other than a closed, cold feeling. _

_I hope he's as good as his word. We'll have to do it again sometime, Malfoy._

* * *

**Author's Concluding Note****:**_ There's nothing to say, really. This is, as I mentioned, a response to rowan-greenleaf's challenge. Reviews are greatly appreciated, especially if they're critical reviews. -- Error-in G_


	2. Again Sometime

**DISCLAIMER: **_I acknowledge that none of the Harry Potter rights belong to me, nor did I create the Harry Potter series or any character originally in it. I take credit only for any original characters and/or the plot variations._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: _This is a companion piece (sequel) to The Art of Obsession and (prequel) We're Not At Hogwarts Anymore._

**Again Sometime**

_My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley, and I'm OUT OF MY MIND FOR DRACO MALFOY! I have spent so long obsessing over a boy who would never return my affections, and now… he does. Or, he did._

_Yesterday was perfect! Draco is such a doll… to drag me away like he did, to jump down my throat… mm! I wasn't finished with him when he left, but I would never complain. For him to even look my direction is such a treat. I haven't seen him since… in fact, I practically fled to the Gryffindor commons, and I haven't left since… I didn't go to dinner, and I skipped breakfast this morning._

_Ron thinks I've gone absolutely batty. All I can think about is Draco, and I guess I've been getting lost in him and forgetting what's going on around me. Working on my potions essay would be absolutely pointless._

_Draco is just beautiful. I think that every girl who goes to this mixed up school must secretly be in love with him… and I even think he knows it. But even so, I was the one who got the letter tonight, not any of those other girls…_

Ginny walked quickly, head down and hair falling around her face, through the dark and dank corridors that led through the dungeons of the castle. She didn't want to be heard by anyone and, most of all, didn't want to be seen. She felt safer with her hair hiding her face, but realized that anyone would know who it was by the second-hand robes and red hair.

Her hand was thrust wrist-deep into her robe pocket, clutched around her wand and the note that had come via owl earlier that morning. You never knew when you might run into a Slytherin down here… it was common knowledge that their dormitory was down here somewhere, even though Ginny didn't think anyone knew exactly where. But it didn't matter, because she wasn't down here to look for the Slytherin dorm: she was down here because of the scrap of paper clutched in her hand. _Potions. 8 pm. _was all that it read. The owl that had delivered it had banged impatiently on her window until she opened it to take the note, puzzled that it hadn't come during the normal post. That was, until she read it.

It had to be from Draco. Ginny's heart had skipped a beat when she realized that, even though she couldn't be for sure. After all, she didn't know his hand writing at all. But who else would ask to meet her in the potions room on a Saturday night? Although, two days ago, she never would have believed that MALFOY would ask her, either… but, then again, he probably still wouldn't. _"We'll have to do this again sometime, Weasley."_ The words echoed through Ginny's head. She never dreamed that "again" might mean a mere twenty-four hours later. And maybe it did, maybe it didn't. But she wasn't complaining, she had no right to. One moment with Draco Malfoy, Prince of Hogwarts, was more than she deserved.

Finally Ginny reached the potions classroom, now less nervous of Slytherin students, more nervous about Professor Severus Snape, whose lair she was now in. She stood right outside the heavy wooden door for a moment, concentrating on steadying her heavy breathing as she leaned against the cold stone wall. It felt to her like her heart was beating loudly enough that it should be echoing down the corridor in both directions. She closed her eyes, willing her nerves to go away, before cautiously cracking the door to the classroom.

It was empty.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying into the dark classroom and tightly shutting the door behind her. Shadows owned the room, since there were no windows and no candles burning. The only light in the room came from the hearth where a low fire was burning, probably kept up by the house elves. She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the dark of the room. Slowly she walked forward to the far wall, weaving through tables, and then sank slowly to the floor. She fixed her eyes on the door, leaning against the wall, and she waited.

And she waited.

Ginny knew she'd arrived at least a little early, but she was sure that it had to be after eight now… even though she had no way of knowing for sure. Maybe it had just been a prank, a cruel joke, by Draco. It occurred to Ginny that maybe Moaning Myrtle had told someone about the rendezvous in the bathroom and that person had decided to play such a joke. She got a little angry inside just thinking about it. On one hand, Draco had stood her up… on the other, someone had made her _think_ that Draco had stood her up. Neither idea seemed too good, and two hot tears escaped from the corner of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she set her jaw. It wasn't fair. If anyone, even Draco, realized how in love she was with him, they would never do something so torturous.

And still she waited. She clung to the little bit of hope that maybe he'd show up… and she also didn't want to go back to the common room and be asked where she'd been. She was sure it had been an hour, or more, and was just getting ready to brace herself and face the rest of the Gryffindors again when a shaft of light was thrown suddenly across the room. Ginny stood quickly, her breath stuck in her throat as the door opened the rest of the way and the gorgeous Slytherin's body was silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, before the door was shut again and the room turned again to shadows.

"I thought you weren't coming." Ginny whispered, butterflies assaulting her throat and intestines once more.

Draco walked silently across the room, between tables, until he stood in front of Ginny. "So?" He asked, staring hard into Ginny's eyes. And then, "Are you ignoring me?" After the former had been answered with only silence.

Ginny shook her head. "Never… I guess I was just early is all." But she knew that really Draco had been very late… but why tell him that? She was lucky that he had showed up at all.

"Do you know why I'm here, Weasley?" Draco sneered. Before waiting for an answer, he went on, "I'm here because it's my turn to show up how I feel about you… you certainly made it clear how you feel about me yesterday."

Ginny smiled, unable to help herself. Could she really be hearing these words coming from Draco Malfoy's mouth? She studied his red lips, and caught herself staring when he licked them. After years she had finally somehow won Draco's admiration, maybe even his heart next. She couldn't believe that this wonderful, beautiful specimen could have any feelings for her… it was just marvelous!

But suddenly Draco moved forward fast, planting his hands against the stone wall on either side of Ginny's head. "It's my turn." he whispered, leaning close to her mouth and planting a kiss against the corner of her mouth, "Are you ready?"

Ginny was nearly panting, and she felt like she would pass out from the nerves. She closed her eyes, distracted by the warmth spreading down her thighs. She parted her lips, waiting anxiously for a kiss like yesterday, her second kiss. This time she'd know what to do. "Yes." She answered, keeping her eyes closed. But the kiss didn't come.

Instead, Ginny felt Draco's hands grab her shoulders tightly. Her eyes flew open to stare into his face, and she was surprised when he pulled her robe off and cast it to the floor. She immediately tried to pull from him and pick it up, but he just jerked her back up by the shoulders, placing his lips at her neck and growling at her, "Hold still, it's _my_ turn." Ginny obeyed, willing to let him kiss her neck forever. But it wasn't long before he moved to her eager mouth, pressing his body against hers and taking mouthfuls of her tongue. Ginny eagerly kissed back, trying to keep up. The taste in her mouth was delicious, like sweet mint with the lingering taste of some sort of fruit. Much better than she had remembered. She basked in the sensations that were sent through the rest of her body… the tingles in her spine and scalp, the warmth in the pit of her stomach and between her legs… he was also between her legs, pressing his body hard against her.

Draco reached down Ginny's body and grabbed her skirt, keeping her pinned tightly against the wall. He yanked it free from her waist, popping the button that had helped it secure. It fell to the floor. Ginny shook her head, scared now, pushing with her hands against Draco's chest. "Please don't… do that." She whispered, dodging Draco's kisses by craning her neck away.

The Prince of Slytherin, beautiful monster, shook his head. "If you don't behave, I'm going to have to get my wand out." He said in an unusually low voice. Ginny was wary… she wasn't sure what Draco wanted from her, but she realized he would get it either way… so she relented. After all, she smiled to herself, this was Draco. She could get used to this.

Draco's hands continued to roam all throughout Ginny's body, finally settling on her shirt's top button. Ginny could feel him unbuttoning it as he returned to kissing her, and she could tell he was struggling. She reached up to help, but he shoved her hands away and, grabbing the shirt from either side, tore the buttons off one by one until he could shove the shirt off of her shoulders and onto the floor.

Ginny felt self-conscious standing in front of Draco wearing only her white bra and panties and panty-hose. Her nerves were tense, and her brain was fighting with her heart. She knew she didn't want this to happen, but this was her love, her entire world. Draco Malfoy. And so, when he tried to lay her to on the floor, she went willing. He was kissing her neck and fighting with her bra when the door slammed open quickly.

Both the boy and the girl jumped, and Draco turned to see who it was.

There, in the doorway, stood the very person that Ginny least wanted to see. His greasy hair fell to his chin, and Ginny could almost smell the sneer on his face. "Is that you, Malfoy?" He asked in an official voice, squinting into the dark.

Draco stood up, running a hand through his hair, while Ginny was too afraid to move. "Yeah… just finishing up." He lied.

Snape shrugged. "Better get back to the Slytherin dorm, you two." He said, clearly unable to identify Ginny as a Weasley… or he probably would not have been so kind. With that, he turned and shut the door behind her, returning the room to darkness.

Draco remained standing, looking down at Ginny. "Another interruption. You're lucky." He smirked. "I'll see you later." And with that he, too, marched across the room and was gone.

_But even so, I was the one who got the letter tonight, not any of those other girls. I guess he thinks about me like I think about him. Only in a different way._

_Tonight was terrifying, but it was so wonderful, too. I wonder what he would have done to me… or if he really does have feelings for me. I doubt he does. But I'll take what I can get. I certainly don't mind letting the Prince of Slytherin, my beautiful Prince, song me whenever he wants. If he even wants more than that, he can have it._

_It was real fun trying to get back to Gryffindor without a working skirt or blouse, though._


	3. We're Not At Hogwarts Anymore

**DISCLAIMER: **_I acknowledge that none of the Harry Potter rights belong to me, nor did I create the Harry Potter series or any character originally in it. I take credit only for any original characters and/or the plot variations._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: _So this is just something I wrote real quick and on a whim… you could call it a companion piece to my Art of Obsession, but it can stand alone nicely, too. My heart wasn't really in it, so it probably isn't that great._

**We're Not at Hogwarts Anymore**

_My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley, and it's been a long time since I was in the fourth year at Hogwarts. It's not easy to be a Weasley these days… although, it's probably easier to be me than it is to be any of the others. I'm eighteen now, school is over, so is life in the wizarding world as I knew it. Just last week Voldemort finally triumphed over Harry, a big blow for sure. I guess I always knew it was coming, even when I was involved with him. There is no Dumbledore's army anymore._

_Part of me is glad that most of the Order is gone. Don't get me wrong, they were great friends and I miss them so much. Tonks and Lupin are gone, so are Hagrid and Dumbledore and Harry now. Worst of all was the loss of both of the twins, which has been especially hard on Ron, since Hermione's been in St Mungo's practically for forever._

_But now Voldemort and the Death Eaters are in power, all I can really think about is one of them in particular. I haven't seen Draco in the longest time, not since Harry and I became involved in the sixth year. The two years prior to that I had been involved off-and-on in secret with Malfoy, ever since the day in the fourth year when he discovered my obsession with him… I wish things didn't have to be the way they are, I wish I could have stayed in touch with him. So I sent him an owl last week, asking him to meet me. I told him where I'd wait, sitting on an old park bench in Muggle London._

_I don't know why I wrote the letter; I knew as I sent it that if he ignored it I'd be crushed. I wish I could just stroll right up to him in Malfoy Manor and tell him how I feel, and that I miss him. But, even though I wasn't really on the front lines of the resistance, I'm still a Weasley, and I'm still an enemy of Voldemort. I don't know if he thinks of me as an enemy, though… but I guess we really have always been enemies. Ever since Hogwarts, he was a Slytherin, I was a Gryffindor…_

Ginny sat nervously on the hard wooden planks of the park bench, glancing around her nervously, trying not to look out of place or unusual. The good people of London were strolling around with their little ankle-terrorizing dogs, shouting at their children for wandering too far away and twirling their mustaches absent-mindedly. Not many people were sitting alone on benches, and maybe muggles didn't really do that. Maybe sitting here alone was attracting attention. Ginny worried with the half of her brain that wasn't wondering about the boy – or was he a man now? – that may or may not have been in the area. Maybe he was on his way here right now, leaving Malfoy Manor inconspicuously, to be reunited with his lost love.

No, that was too much for Ginny. Lost love? She didn't think so. All it had been was a secret affair for a couple years while they were seeing other people in the public eye… just to avoid suspicion. Ginny doubted he even cared anymore… because it didn't really seem likely. He'd probably forgotten about her, or viewed her with contempt because of the part her family played in the resistance against his lord.

Her absent eyes now followed a young couple as they walked past her bench, absorbed in each other. The girl looked like any other muggle girl, and Ginny wondered if she was fitting in as well. She wore a pair of denim jeans and a thin pink sweater, which clashed in an odd way with her hair. The effect wasn't altogether unpleasant, as it toned down the fiery red-orange of the strands of hair that she had gotten cut into a chin-length bob. This she regretted now, thinking of how Draco used to wind his hands through her hair in their school days.

The more time went by without the appearance of Draco, the more uncomfortable Ginny became. First, she didn't know how long she should wait for him. Or how long it would be before she would seem out of place in this muggle world and someone would ask her about it, or perhaps mention something to their policemen. It suddenly occurred to her that sending her plea to meet up with Draco may have been a dumb idea… after all, if he really did view her with contempt, he could turn her in to the death eaters so easily. She'd given him a time and a place, and another Weasley would be gone just like that. Shivers ran down her arms, leaving goose-bumps behind, and she pulled the funny little back muggles carried into her lap. It was a leather purse, big enough to have been able to fit a couple years worth of sketch books in it with her wand and some muggle money around them. She slipped her hand inside it, hoping to be discreet, and balled her fist around her wand. Her eyes she lowered to her lap, breathing deeply and consciously, trying to appear settled and natural.

"Weasley." The coarse voice brought Ginny back into a panic, as she jumped visibly and her breathing caught.

She looked up… caught his eye. There standing in front of the red-headed beauty was something much more beautiful than she had seen in a long time. The boy, Draco, stood clad in muggle clothes, his right hand on his hip and his head cocked in a superior manner. He was just as Ginny had remembered him, burned into her mind's eye. His hair was a little longer than hers, falling nearly to his shoulders and unchecked by any band to hold it back. Its silver sheen framed his face and his angular features perfectly, bringing out the steely color of his eyes. His nose and mouth were cut perfectly, as though out of marble, and his thin lips were curved downward in a sort of frown.

"Draco?" Ginny's voice came out weak, as she sat in awe of the beauty in front of her. She didn't know what to do or say, but was just content to be looking into _his_ eyes once again.

Draco took a step forward, his arm snaking around Ginny's waist as he pulled her to her feet. Her purse fell to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to kiss her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth in much the same way as it had the first time, giving her no say in the matter. She pressed back, moaning softly into his mouth, trying to put all of the lonely days and thoughts of him into the sound that came from her throat… and from much deeper inside of her. She moved her hands so that they caressed his face, feeling the soft skin beneath as he continued to kiss her thoroughly. Finally he leaned back slightly, breaking the lock of their lips and lowering his eyes to hers.

"Ginevra, what happened to your hair?" He asked sternly, letting his fingertips wrap themselves slowly in the ends of the red locks.

Ginny smiled slightly, unwilling and unable to talk about something so trivial. "I missed you." She whispered, running her fingers across the slim red lines that formed his mouth, his lips subtly twitching into a brief smile as she did.

"I missed you, too." He said, a soft look taking over his features: a look Ginny had rarely seen. This was the look he had only given her rarely when he had been tired or worn out and let his guard down, and it had never stayed for long. She gazed at his face, drinking in this look that she knew wasn't likely to last for long. This was the real Draco, the one that she had been allowed to see briefly in their school days. "I wish things hadn't turned out the way they did." He said, surprising her with the tender reflection in his voice.

"I do, too." Ginny sighed, her head leaning towards Draco's hand in her hair, brushing her cheek against the warmth of his fingers. "I wish we could have stayed in touch."

Draco shook his head, dropping his hand and turning from Ginny, taking a few steps away. "I didn't mean that. I meant the Dark Lord. I wish I hadn't chosen the side I chose. That's what drove you away from me. It's too late now."

"That isn't true." She stepped forward until she could lay her hands on his hunched shoulders and lean her head against his back. "I understand you, Draco. I know you aren't evil. I'm here now, and we can be whatever you want us to be."

He turned around, "It isn't a question of you taking me back, Weasley." He scoffed. This was the Draco that she knew, that everybody knew, and yet Ginny still loved him anyway. "I know you'd do that, you're so pathetic like that. You were so obsessed with me back in school."

"Then why?" Ginny was getting a little nervous about this. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to come back to Draco, vulnerable. She had a sudden stab of fear that maybe he was married, or with another witch, one that was pure blood and worthy of the Dark Lord's army.

"It's too dangerous. You could never be with me in secret, you can't even exist in secret. There's really not much of anyone who's not on the Dark Lord's side who can do anything in secret. He probably knows of us meeting here even. It would be stupid and ignorant of you to think we could be anything." Draco said as he turned back to face the little girl he'd once been so infatuated with, the mask of his face cold and hard as it had always been at school even then.

Ginny nodded, relieved at least that it wasn't someone else, someone who had taken her place in his thoughts and emotions. She turned to pick her muggle purse up off the ground and pulled a leather-bound book from it. "Will you at least sit for me, one more time?" She asked, her eyes looking up at him hopefully.

Draco stood still, motionless. "You can work your magic without a model, why did you need me?"

"I wanted to have one last picture of you… one last little piece. A real representation of who you are now." She answered quietly, seating herself on the park bench and opening the book to a blank page. She pulled a pencil from her bag and slowly started to sketch the man in front of her; the beautiful man that had grown from a young lanky boy to a fully filled out man, having every stage in between captured by Ginny's pencil and in Ginny's books.

A tear formed slowly in Ginny's eye as the form was perfected on her paper, drawing the pencil across slowly, knowing somehow that this would determine that amount of time that she saw this boy. She knew somehow deep inside of her that it would be her last time. As she put the fine details on the man on the paper she looked up… but Draco was gone.

Tears rolled slowly down Ginevra's face, and she didn't bother to blink them away. She knew it they would be the first of many.

_Ever since Hogwarts, he was a Slytherin, I was a Gryffindor. I guess nothing has changed. We're still in different houses, on different sides. It didn't stop us then, but it's keeping us apart now. I guess this isn't Hogwarts anymore._


End file.
